Sinclair takes hold of a small section of my hair, twirling it around a finger. When he releases it, the soft curl bounces off my cheek. “I love redheads,” he murmurs in a low seductive voice. “Is it true their pain threshold is higher?” His nimble fingers find my hair again, combing roughly through the strands. Just before he reaches the ends, he furls his hand and tugs firmly. “Is it, Kate?” My mouth falls open, but I can’t form words. “Do you enjoy having your hair pulled?”

I hate having my hair pulled. At least that’s what I always thought. But the tugging called my body to attention, put every nerve on high alert. And yes, I did enjoy it—all of it. But I especially enjoyed the way my scalp and pussy tingled in sync, as though they were engaging in an erotic dance for my pleasure alone. I’m still enjoying it. Although I have no intention of telling him that. I shake my head in response.

His eyes are dark slits. “Liar,” he murmurs, a breath away from my temple.

The warm sensation caresses my skin. It’s a stark contrast to the cruel word, liar. Is that what it would be like with him? Cruelty swathed in a tender caress? Would I enjoy that, too? Oh, God.

My throat is parched. My brain thick with fog. I’m aroused. And confused. With every circuit misfiring.

“How badly do you want those answers?” He hooks a thumb under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “What are you willing to do to get them?”

His last question jolts me out of my he-is-hot-as-sin and I want to melt in the fires of hell trance. “You’re kidding?” I pant softly.

He smirks. It’s a menacing little smirk. “I’m not kidding. If I’m going to answer your questions, you’re going to make it worth my time. Or at least make it interesting. It’s not too much to ask, is it, Kate?” He stands inches from me, his voice sultry and rich when he says my name.

I don’t move. I can’t. My heart is pounding. It’s all I hear. That, and the small voice of reason nearly obscured by his chiseled features and strong hands. Go, Kate. Now! While you can, it shouts. But I don’t. My feet are stuck to the floor, and there’s nowhere to go, anyway. I can’t get out of this place without the codes, and he could overtake me easily if I run. My eyes dart around the room looking for an escape. I should at least make some effort to leave.

“Relax. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

His voice has lost the perilous edge, but I’m not convinced he’s any less dangerous. Or maybe I’m not sure that I need much convincing to do whatever it is he has in mind.